


Rememory

by FaiaHae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Based on Bluandorange's ideas, Jesse McCree is a good boyfriend, Joel Morricone, M/M, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Recovering your memory sucks when you've built a pretty decent life around a man that isn't you, amnesiac hanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-18 10:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13680132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaiaHae/pseuds/FaiaHae
Summary: Overwatch had been dead for about 7 years, and Jesse McCree had been Joel Morricone full time for 5 of those. 8 since the last time he saw Genji, 9 since the last time he’d been to Japan. Surely longer then all of those since he’d seen a picture of Hanzo Shimada in a briefing packet.He's run into a man who looks an awful lot like him, though.





	1. Call you mine

Overwatch had been dead for about 7 years, and Jesse McCree had been Joel Morricone full time for 5 of those. 8 since the last time he saw Genji, 9 since the last time he’d been to Japan. Surely longer then all of those since he’d seen a picture of Hanzo Shimada in a briefing packet, and surely  _ that wasn't fucking him outside the grocery store in goddamn Kyoto.  _

 

Jesse was stopped in his tracks, trying to remember the face of his best friend’s killer, when the man outside the grocery store tried to pull his bags loose with a little too much enthusiasm and tore one open. Oranges rained on the sidewalk, and the man looked so  _ genuinely upset  _ that Jesse was moving before he could think better of it, catching the ones about to roll into the road and gathering the rest up. He stood, grinning reflexively, and slipped into japanese.

 

“Might be a bit bruised. You need any help with the rest of your bags?”

 

The man’s perfect eyebrows practically shot off of his face. 

“I ah- yes, but I’m afraid I walked here from my apartment. Do you live in the area?”

McCree shook his head.

“Just landed today, was gonna shop around a bit.”

The stranger snorted.

“Shop around? In Kyoto? Even with your perfect Japanese that seems a bit foolhardy.”

Jesse found himself smiling back, pleased despite himself. 

“Hey now, perfect’s a bit of a stretch.”

The stranger held a bag open for the oranges, his grin getting sly.

“Are you accusing me of flattering you? What motive could I possibly have for flattering a such a handsome, considerate stranger?”

McCree’s face hurt from smiling, and he strung every one of the man’s shopping bags on his arms and elbows, earning himself an eye roll and a grin.

 

“Well,” he tried and failed to sound casual, “we don’t have to be strangers.”

The man tapped his lip thoughtfully and grinned.

“You could start with your name and your phone number.”

McCree was startled into a laugh.

“Joel Morricone. N’ we can trade when I have my hands free to write down yours.”

The man looked positively delighted.

“Joel Morricone? Do you happen to run a travel blog?”

Jesse grinned. This was the only way he enjoyed being recognized.

“As it happens, I do. Have you stumbled on a few of my articles?”

The man snorted.

“Hardly a few. I...spent quite a bit of time in the hospital years ago. A nurse was kind enough to recommend a few websites to help build my knowledge of the world again and to keep me occupied while I healed.”

A distant alarm went off in the back of McCree’s mind. He left it on read.

“Build your knowledge up again?”

The man looked apologetic.   
“Ah, yes. Buried the lead. Retrograde Amnesia. Everything before...well, I must have been around 25. I’m still not precisely sure how old I am.”

The alarm went off a little louder, but Jesse kept his tone casual.

“Sounds like a hell of an accident.”

The man grimaced, a shadow coming over his features.

“It was, from what I understand. They couldn’t reconstruct it perfectly, but I was military, and got caught in a concussion grenade blast. The battle was such a loss that no one could figure out precisely who I was, but I’d mentioned to an agent from Helix Securities that I was from Japan shortly before the blast, so I was transferred to a hospital here once I was out of critical condition.”

The alarm went quiet again, and Jesse felt a pang of sympathy.

“Memory’s hell of a thing to lose. Glad my little blog brought you some comfort.”

That earned him a grin that warmed him down to his toes.

“I imagine you could offer me all  _ sorts  _ of comforts.”

 

McCree laughed as they reached the door of the apartment complex, the man tapping his key card to unlock the doors.

“Reckon I could. Mind doin me one little favor first though?”

“Oh, anything.”

McCree tried to ignore the little hot flash he got at that.

“What do you want me to call you?”

 

The man flashed him another coy grin that told him he’d left a lot of answers to that question open, but yielded.   
“Henry Yoshida’s the name on my paperwork.”

“Henry?”

The man shrugged, hitting the button for the elevator.

“Somehow the staff came to the conclusion that I was an American. Apparently when I came to the first few times I was yelling in English.”

“Well y’know, I’ve got something else I’d love to call you.”

Henry raised an eyebrow as he hit the elevator button.

“Oh?”

“I’d love to call you mine.”

 

The elevator doors closed on a loud, ringing laugh.

 

___

 

McCree, to his joy, did get to call the stranger his. And after the first wild night in which the groceries were completely forgotten he never did get around to moving out. His darling was quick witted, sharp as a tack, and the most giving lover McCree’d ever had the pleasure of taking to bed. He’d even managed to swallow the swell of nervousness that had cooled in his gut when he first saw the tattoo on his lover’s arm. He’d asked, casually as anything, in the morning, if he remembered anything about it. 

 

His stranger just huddled closer to Jesse’s chest, and huffed out a breath.

“Since i’ve settled in here, i’ve made pretty regular trips to the temple. They tell me that the dragons are guardian spirits, tattooed in the traditional style. They said the work had to have been done by a miko. Best guess? Must have worked at or near a temple. That’s all I know.”

 

So Jesse had silenced the alarm bells again and went right ahead falling in love with a stranger. It was foolish- but emotions aside, it had its advantages. The hospital didn’t bother much with paperwork or background checks, understanding the situation. He was safe, secure, and happy.

 

Except for, well. Except that his lover was...starting to come apart a little. 

 

The first lapse was at a festival. There had been a swordfight- some dramatic play, a fight between brothers that was making McCree wince. When he looked over to ask his dearest if they could step out, he realized he was already gone. In the back of his mind- more bells.

 

Jesse found him outside, throwing up into a trash can. He was pale and shaking, and McCree had him up in his arms and halfway to the hospital before he got any stammered explanation- the swords, something about the swords, something awful. Something that made him scared and sick all the way down to his gut. McCree quieted the alarms by force and rocked his boyfriend in his arms, to calm again, letting the process of making sure he ate and drank water and slept in his arms absorb his doubts.

 

After all, there was no way the trembling man in his arms, who couldn’t so much as look at a sword, could have used one against his brother. 

 

And maybe if it had stopped there, he could have stayed sure. 

And well, there were plenty of little things, in between the big ones. His love up late at night, watching old disney movies. He always cried when families were reunited. Once they were out at a park and two kids were goofing off, chasing each other up and down the slides and laughing. McCree heard a sniffle, and when he looked, there were tears running down his lover’s face. He had clung tight to McCree the whole way home and when they were finally home and he’d calmed down a little, he blinked up at Jesse.

  
“I miss my family. I don’t know who they were, but I think I...I think I must have had a brother. It just feels right. Sometimes when you tell stories there’s something on the tip of my tongue, that  _ someone  _ was just like that. But it doesn’t lead anywhere.”

McCree took a breath, willing himself into letting go of his suspicions, and squeezed his hand. 

_ Lots of people have siblings Jesse. Hold your horses.  _

 

But then there was the nightmares.

He kept waking to crying, to yelling, to arms wrapped around his waist so tight he thought his ribs might snap. And finally, one night, to an empty bed, to his boyfriend standing in the dark stock still.

 

“Darlin-” Jesse reached out-

Jesse didn’t see him move. He didn’t see anything at all, but he felt his wrist snap and he went down hard, yelling more from the shock then the pain. 

 

His lover jumped, looking around as though he’d- 

He’d been sleepwalking.

Shit. 

Shoulda learned not to approach a fucking combat trained sleepwalker way back in goddamn deadlock, and here he was stumbling into his stupidity again. 

“Joel? Oh my god, Joel?? Are you- oh my god did I- I- I-” his lover backed away, hands up. He looked terrified of his own palms, fighting the simultaneous urges to run away and to run right back to Jesse and help. 

“Darlin- Darlin I need you not to panic.”

“How can I not panic?? Did I just- I just BROKE YOUR WRIST. Oh my god. Oh my god I hurt you and all these dreams- I’m not- I’m a killer oh my god oh my god-”

“Darlin, please-”

“I hurt you! Why did I hurt you?? How did I- ohmygod you trusted me and you shouldn’t have trusted me i’m a bad person I hurt people and-”

“HENRY.”

His lover’s jaw snapped shut and Jesse grimaced at the hurt still on his features.

“We can talk about this. We can talk all this through and find out all the why, but right now, I need a splint for my wrist and a bandage to hold it in place. Can you do that for me, pumpkin?”

 

It took a moment to process, but with a deep breath, his boyfriend went sprinting to the medicine closet down the hall. McCree took a moment to breathe, assess the damage, and reevaluate what he knew.

Dreams. Killer. Dreams. Dragons. Swords. Brother. Loss. 

He knew.

He knew, but dammit. It was too late. It was long too late. Jesse McCree had fallen in love with the man that used to be Hanzo Shimada from the first torn bag of oranges, and he had no way of stopping it now. 

 

But what to tell him?

When?

 

His lover came sprinting back in, arms heavy with supplies, and took Jesse’s hand in gentle hands that only had the slightest shake. 

“Baby.”

Hanzo paused, looking up to meet McCree’s eyes. Jesse gently reached out, cupping his cheek.

 

“If we could find out who you were, would you want to know? Even if it changed everything?”

He looked down again, at Jesse’s wrist. His voice was small when he finally spoke, but his hands were steady as they started again on the splint.

 

“If this was the kind of man I was- the man I see in my dreams- no. I...” He shook again, and Jesse reached out to pull him close with his free arm. Hanzo wrapped an arm around his waist, careful not to jostle his hand.

“I want to be Henry Yoshida. Here, in an apartment with you. I want to be the man who goes to the temple and comes home to cook. Even if it means I never remember where I learned how. I want to be the man who gets to keep you.”

 

Jesse held him a little tighter.

“You’d have me regardless. I promise.”

 

And perhaps that would have been the end of it, were it not for Genji. 


	2. (not) gone but not forgotten

The Overwatch recall came on sunny day in mid march, the morning of what the hospital decided was Henry Yoshida’s birthday. Jesse was making a cake, and was grouchy enough at leaving it behind that he barely glanced at the message on the communicator before he threw it out the window.

 

If Hanzo was willing to give up his past for him, Jesse was sure as hell going to extend him the same courtesy. Still, sloppy work. The old Jesse McCree would have remembered the tracking chip in the coms once they were activated, and would have remembered to smash it first. Jesse went back to his cake, and the chip went right on transmitting from the gutter far below. 

 

The cake was well received, and Hanzo gushed about his new job as a climbing instructor on the cliffs out of town with enthusiasm. It had taken him a while to learn how to use the harnesses, apparently free climbing was yet another skill he didn’t remember acquiring, but he’d been licensed and gotten his first students through a lesson.

 

He’d shared his enthusiasm at great length before they fell asleep curled up together, and thus McCree was totally unprepared to answer the knock at the door in the morning. He pulled himself loose from his boyfriend’s arms gently, showering his face with kisses when Hanzo was reluctant to let go, and plastered a smile on his face to go deal with the world.

 

He opened the door.

He closed it again.

 

A metal foot shot out to block it as it closed.

“Is that how you greet an old friend?” 

McCree threw the door open again to push through it and close it behind him.

“You can’t be here.”

 

Genji raised his eyebrows. His visor was off, his scarred face wrapped in a scarf. He looked almost the boy from the old photographs, far from black metal and gleaming red eyes. His hair was green, and seemed to be growing freely. 

It would have been good to see him again under any other circumstances.

 

“Why not? You ignored the recall. I came to try to convince you to take up the cause.”

“I’ve got my own cause now.”

“And what cause is that?”

 

“-Joel?” Hanzo’s voice was muffled by the door, but he could hear his footsteps. No time to shove Genji out a window, damn him, no time to do anything. 

Genji’s eyebrows started to climb, and Jesse grabbed his shoulders.

“I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.” Genji’s tone was suddenly serious.

“Don’t blow this for me. Choose your words carefully. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“I-”

Hanzo opened the door. He laid eyes on Genji and Jesse held his breath, waited for pain, any reaction, anger. Genji’s expression was carefully blank, bless his black little heart.

“Who’s this?” Hanzo looked to McCree- no suspicion, just curiosity. No recognition. Jesse let himself be relieved, even with the mildest pang of guilt. 

“An old friend. Sorry hon, he didn’t let me know he was coming.”

Hanzo waved McCree off, laughing at the passive aggression slipping into McCree’s tone.

“It’s no trouble. We have plenty of room. Come in! I think Joel was just getting on breakfast.” Hanzo gave him a gentle shove, pushing him along to the kitchen. Genji stepped in and closed the door behind him, and McCree caught an expression of pure bewilderment over Hanzo’s shoulder.

 

They were in the same boat then. That was a decent enough start. 

He yielded, getting bacon and pancake batter started, and straining his ears to catch Hanzo settling across from Genji at the kitchen counter.

“So what brings you to Japan?” Hanzo asked. Genji, bless him, sounded casual enough.   
“I was trying to convince Joel to come back to Spain, actually. We’re...restarting our printing company. We need all of the talent we can get.”

 

Mcree waved the spatula threateningly at Genji.

“I told them the last time that I wasn’t writing another goddamn word for them. Seem to recall you said the same.”

“It’s a different world now. We can have a different place in it. And Winston is a far better...publisher, then Ja-...James.”

“I got a life here.” Jesse growled. Something in him was straining- not against the farce, but against the genuine conviction in Genji’s eyes. Make the world a better place his ass. More death. More loss. More causes too big to shoulder. More family to lose. He’d almost forgotten about Hanzo by his side until there was a light touch on his elbow, and the pot of pancake batter was gently wrested from his hands.

“I’m going to rescue the bacon you’re burning. Will you be alright without me for a moment?” Hanzo muttered into his ear as he leaned up to kiss his cheek. Jesse let an arm snake around his boyfriend’s waist, giving him a quick squeeze.

“Thank you sugar. I’ll be fine.”

 

He wasn’t ashamed, but he still braced himself before he looked back up at Genji, expecting betrayal and anger. 

 

He didn’t get it. 

 

Genji looked...thoughtful. Almost teary eyed, though it was hard to tell with the scarf. He tipped his head and offered McCree a half smile that showed more in the lift of his cheek then the rest of his features.

“I can see that. Though it makes me wonder- Joel Morricone, globe trotter, settling down. Must be some extraordinary circumstances.”

There were questions there, under the surface. More than Jesse knew how to answer. He settled for a shrug.

“Turns out I’m an egoist who can only fall for my fans.”

Hanzo laughed, crossing back over with the rescued bacon and setting it down on the table.

“I hardly had a choice.”

“Baaah. You coulda read anyone else’s blog, sweetheart.”

“I could not have! I told you, the hospital only allowed certain sites-”

“Hospital?”

 

Genji’s cut in was too urgent sounding to have been intentionally spoken, and he looked mortified, but Hanzo took it in stride as he served the pancakes. 

“Concussion blast. Evidently I was part of the forces sent to egypt to assist after the Anubis program broke containment. I don’t remember anything prior to waking up in the Cairo hospital.”

There was real understanding on Genji’s face now, though he molded it into something more like sympathy,

“I see. I had to spend quite a bit of time in the hospital myself.” 

McCree winced, but Genji’s attention was focused on Hanzo, who just looked sympathetic.

“That’s unfortunate. My injuries were not terribly severe under the circumstances, honestly. I am very grateful it was only my memory and not my life.”

 

“I am glad you all alright.” The tone was all wrong, too heartfelt for a stranger, too strongly put. Hanzo’s expression clouded a moment, and Jesse didn’t like the way he was studying Genji’s expression one bit. Reluctantly, it seemed, he started again. 

“I am..glad as well. Well, not for the loss, but for the things I gained in the process.” Hanzo reached out to take Jesse’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze. His palm felt clammy. Jesse looked up as Hanzo took a deep breath.

 

“Darlin’...?”

“I’m sorry I...I have a headache.”

“Darlin-”

Hanzo turned to Genji, and there was a new conviction in his face.

“I’m sorry but- do I know you? You seem familiar but I can’t quite-”

 

Genji looked to McCree, who didn’t move. His decision. Their decision. Jesse squeezed Hanzo’s hand and hoped it was the right one. 

“...yes.”

“I see.” 

Hanzo stood and gently took his hand from Jesse’s.

“I need a moment.”

 

He gathered up his keys and coat in a smooth motion, and was out the door before McCree could think of what to say. It locked behind him.

 

“Well.” Genji started, just trying to fill the silence. 

 

“Shit.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. No easy questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed I added another chapter to my expected count here! We got a bit more conversation happening before everyone's all good. have some....angst.

Jesse didn’t even have too hard of a time finding Hanzo. He had a few places he tended to go when he was upset. McCree couldn’t help the thought- it would have made him a poor assassin, if he was this much of a creature of habit. He was sitting on the same bench he always did when he wanted to think, looking distantly out over the park and the playground full of kids. Without saying anything, Jesse sat down next to him. 

 

Hanzo let the silence sit a moment before he reached for Jesse’s hand. He seemed to be deep in thought. Jesse waited him out, looking at the kids again. He almost missed it when Hanzo finally spoke. 

 

“Who are you?”

That scared Jesse a little, but Hanzo’s voice was measured. He didn’t sound angry, and there was none of the tightness he got when he was trying to hide his emotions. 

“....the blog’s mine. I really am a travel writer.”

Hanzo huffed-almost a laugh.

“Then who did you used to be.”

“...that’s not an easy question, sugar. It’s a long sad story.”

 

Hanzo hummed, settling into Jesse’s side. Jesse’s heart clenched, and he let his arm fall around Hanzo’s shoulders, careful. His lover let it stand, pressing his cheek to Jesse’s shoulder.

“I am trying to find a way to approach this that I can manage. I am sorry if I am prying.”

Jesse snorted.

“Honey, I think pryin’ is perfectly understandable under the circumstances. I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

Jesse felt a warmth along his collar, and looked down to meet Hanzo’s eyes. They were starting to spill over with tears. When Hanzo finally spoke, his voice was tight.

“Did you mean it, when you said I could keep you?”

McCree couldn’t help it- he pulled Hanzo completely into his lap, wrapping his arms tight around him. He stroked the silk of Hanzo’s hair, pressing his lips to his forehead.

“Of course I did.”

“But....” Hanzo’s voice broke, and he curled even smaller in McCree’s arms.

“I’m a murderer.”

“Hate to tell you this, but so am I.”

Hanzo looked up at him, his expression careful. Jesse squeezed him before he could resist the impulse, startling a smile from that tearstained face. It was, McCree reflected, as good a start as any.

 

So he told him. He forgot about Genji- at his dinner table at home- and he spun the story of a boy on the wrong side of the poverty line, gang lives and the raid that had turned it all around, the man he had considered his father and how he’d lost him. He told Hanzo about Joel Morricone’s start- bored on a mission posing as tourists- and the places he’d been and how he chose what stories to tell about them. He had him laughing again- in the midst of a story about going to a gay bar in russia with Genji. But there, finally, was the question.

  
Genji.

 

McCree took a deep breath as he cradled Hanzo to his chest, thinking about where to start. 

“What do you remember, sugar?”

Hanzo took a moment to think about it, but Jesse counted it as good a sign as anything that he didn’t pull away while he thought. 

“Nothing. Nothing real- anyway. Dreams. Tornados of blue, his face lit as they reach towards him. Blood. A sword. More blood. Screaming.” Hanzo’s hand clenched, fisting the fabric of Jesse’s shirt. He rested his hand over Hanzo’s, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

“Well, baby. Genji’d know more. The story as I hear it as that he was smuggling information out to us, and your family caught wind of it. You were ordered to carry out his execution, but we got to him afterwards and saved him.”

 

Hanzo’s head shot up, shock flashing through his face like lightning. 

“Our family? Our  _ family  _ ordered me to kill him? But that’s-...that’s terrible! That’s...” His expression changed, carrying the weight of something. McCree thumbed the tears from his cheeks, waiting for him to sort it out.

“-How?” Hanzo’s voice came out a broken whisper. “How could they ask that? How could they do that to him? To me?”

“I don’t know.” Jesse mumbled, pulling Hanzo close again as he began to shake.   
“I don’t understand.” Hanzo whispered, muffled in McCree’s shirt.

“I’m not sure you want to, sugar. Some people are bad all the way down. But if you did...well. Genji knows your family. I think he’d know better then I could how somethin’ like that can happen. How they could push you to that.”

 

“Did I...did I stay with them? Did I believe that-” Hanzo wretched, and McCree held him tighter. The words came out a jumble, painted with pain and confusion.

“Did I believe in them? Did I want to do something like that? Did I stay? Did I-”

“No.” Jesse whispered into his hair, suddenly certain of the answer.

“No, baby, they found you in Cairo. They found you in Cairo with a mercenary’s weapons set. You ran, baby, you ran, and i’m so proud of you-”

 

Jesse realized, dimly, that he was crying too. Hanzo choked out a laugh, lunging up to throw his arms around Jesse’s shoulders. Jesse just held him tighter, burying his face in his shoulder.

 

It was going to be alright.

They were going to be alright.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Rememory

Genji, as McCree had thought, was ransacking their cabinets by the time they got back. If McCree’s eyes were still blotchy and red coming back through the door he didn’t comment, a fact for which he was obscenely grateful. 

 

He was less grateful for Genji cutting himself a massive slice of cake and helping himself, but what else were friends for. 

 

Hanzo, without letting go of McCree’s arm, sat down across from Genji. 

 

Jesse knew he’d have bruises in the morning from the way his boyfriend’s fingers were latched onto him, but he went willingly, tucking himself a little closer to Hanzo’s side. Hanzo took a steadying breath, then looked up to meet Genji’s eyes. His serious expression faltered a bit at Genji’s face- completely covered in frosting, his cheeks puffed.

 

“Must you.” Hanzo managed. Genji shrugged.

“-s’goodcake.”

“Thank you.” McCree monotoned. He felt Hanzo’s grip loosen, just slightly. Good.

“-whasth’occasion.”

Hanzo’s hand tightened again, and Genji’s eyes widened at Jesse’s expression.

 

“-yesterday was the anniversary of my arrival at the hospital. We marked it as a birthday.”

Hanzo’s voice was soft, pained, but Genji managed a smile.

“We did the same thing back when Jesse and I met, only we marked the day I finally got out of the hospital.”

 

Neither of them said what hung over them. They wouldn’t mark the day Genji Shimada died, or the days on the table in agony. They’d mark the day Mercy finally let Genji go. 

 

The silence hung a little longer, and then Genji sighed.

“I have missed you.”

 

Of all the things that Hanzo could have expected Genji to say, it wasn’t that. He was startled into letting go of McCree’s arm.

“-why? From the little I can remember I-...” He trailed off, hands fluttering in his lap. McCree reached out to wrap an arm around him, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. Genji gave them a moment before he spoke again- keeping his voice low and soothing.

 

“You did what you thought you had to do. You thought it was your duty. You were raised with the weight of the world on your shoulders, while I was allowed to run free and do whatever I wanted. You were always worried about me, I think you knew even when we were younger that the elders would bring me in line sooner or later. And when father passed...well. It was only a matter of time. I was foolish. I thought I could bring down the clan from the inside without getting caught. I thought I could get you out too, but you’d been under their influence far too long.”

 

“-but how could I have....” Hanzo’s voice broke, and Genji reached across the table to take his hand.

“I am alive. I am happy, and everything turned out for the best. I did not want to be the Shimada’s hitman. I didn’t want you to be, either. No matter how it happened, we’re here now.”

 

Hanzo looked lost. It made Jesse’s heart ache. Genji kept his hand on his brother’s.

“You are my brother. I love you. I forgive you. I went looking for you years ago to try and tell you that- you used to go to the shrine every year to honor me. I suppose now I know why you stopped.”

 

“...I do not deserve your forgiveness.”

“You have it anyway.”

 

“Why are you both so kind.” Hanzo smiled, wiping his eyes. “And terribly stubborn.”

“We know a little somethin’ about forgiveness.” McCree chuckled, giving his boyfriend a quick squeeze. Hanzo choked out a laugh.

“Stubborn.” he wiped his eyes again, sniffling.

 

“-I can’t imagine the person I must have been.”

Genji chuckled.

“You had a stick up your ass, but you looked out for me.”

“Not well enough.” Hanzo’s face fell. 

 

Genji let that stand for a moment.

 

And then he scooped a blob of frosting and whipped it at Hanzo’s face.

“Genji what the-” McCree’s vision disappeared in blue and white as Genji’s next expertly aimed toss got him across the glasses.

“You come into MY HOUSE-” he choked as the next toss got him in the throat, wheezing as he managed to swallow.

“You-”

 

There was another splat, and Genji let out an indignant noise. Hanzo had jumped the counter and flipped the rest of Genji’s plate into his face. McCree pulled off his glasses and grinned as Genji and Hanzo both lunged for the rest of the rest of the cake at the same moment. Genji got their first, but Hanzo ducked under the first handful of cake and got his hands under the tray, flipping it up and flinging the rest of the cake into Genji’s face at full force.

 

There was a moment of silence- the steady drop of frosting off of Genji’s face. He opened his eyes, squinting through chocolate cake and blue sugar.

Hanzo let out a helpless little laugh, seemingly before he could help it, and clapped his hands over his mouth. Genji scowled, more frosting dripping off his chin, and Hanzo wheezed. 

 

Genji reached up, scooping cake off of his face, and reached out to smear it on Hanzo’s face, and he finally let out a roar of laughter. He shook the icing off of his hands, almost crying with laughter.

“Damn it Genji-”

 

They both stopped. It had slipped out- familiar words. It all felt-

Hanzo touched his face, looking down at his frosting-covered hands.

“We- We used to play like this.”

Genji grinned, helping himself to their paper towels. 

“Yes. It drove the cooks wild.”

 

“I...” Hanzo frowned.

Genji grinned, handing Hanzo some paper towels.

“They complained, but they still always seemed to leave pots of frosting out without any cake or occassion.”

“...they made us clean it up, didn’t they?”

Genji grinned.

“Yeah, they did. Didn’t stop us though. And the cleaning was always fun.”

 

Hanzo smiled.

“That sounds right.”

He leaned into Jesse’s side, and Jesse let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

 

Now there was just one more problem to solve.


	5. Onwards and Upwards

 

“...and if anybody gives you shit, you can send them to talk to  _ me.” _

Hanzo was white as a sheet, clutching McCree’s arm in a death grip. 

 

“But I- I’m a civilian as of right now. If I knew how to use a weapon I don’t anymore. I’m useless and-”

Genji grabbed Hanzo’s other arm, steadying him.

“Torb’s wife lives on base, and so does Tracer’s.”

“Lena’s  _ wife? _ ”

“A lot of life happens when you’re off the grid McCree-”

 

Hanzo took a deep breath.   
“But i’m not- we’re just- that’s different in concern to legal matters and-”

 

Genji wheezed. McCree glared at him. Hanzo zeroed in.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing-”

“Genji-”

McCree sighed.

“Well I was hoping for a better moment then sittin’ on an airfield but-”

 

The plane came into view.

“Uh, McCree, this might not by the time-”

“Sod off Genji. Pumpkin-”

 

McCree dropped to one knee. 

“Pumpkin we’ve been through a lot together, and we’re about to go through a lot more. I know it couldn’t have been easy to give up everything you have for me- so Hanzo Shimada-”

  
He pulled a ring box out of his pocket, holding it up.

“Will you marry me?”

 

Hanzo’s hands flew to his face. The plane set down behind McCree, ignored by everyone but Genji, who was muttering passive-aggressively about timing.

  
“-Jesse are you sure? I- I would love to have you but- I’m a-”

“Never been so sure about anything in my life.”

 

“Yes.” His voice broke and he bobbed his head in a nod as Jesse put the ring on his hand.

“Yes, Jesse-” He threw his arms around his neck. 

 

__

 

Lena got the whole thing on video, because of course she did. 

Even behind the lens of the camera, she nudged Genji with her elbow when he walked over to join her.

“You sure about all this?”

“I was sure even when I still thought he hated me. To see this? When he doesn’t remember the worst of it?” Genji shook his head.

  
“I couldn’t have held a grudge against the man he was, let alone the man he is.”

 

Lena adjusted her goggles.

  
“Good enough for me.”

 

On to Gibraltar. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so THIS TIME it's the final chapter count. Next is the epilogue


End file.
